


late nights

by orphan_account



Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Whump, damien cries a lot, supportive shayne topp, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24442471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Are you okay, Damien?” Shayne asked.“Not sure I know how to answer that properly.” Damien sighed.
Relationships: Damien Haas/Shayne Topp
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	late nights

It was the buzzing phone that jolted Shayne awake, he fumbled around his bed as he tried to find the humming device he had tucked under his pillow before he had fallen asleep. The intense light in the pitch black room made his eyes hurt before he squeezed them tightly from the uncomfortable pain. After his eyes adjusted, he realized a dorky photo of Damien was illuminating his screen. He brought the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

He grumbled as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, “Dames, it’s three am.”  
“I know.” he paused, “I’m sorry, it’s just- I couldn’t sleep and there is so much going on in my head right now.

“I understand.”  
“I felt like you’d be the only one to. Sorry for waking you.”  
“It’s okay. You wanna talk about it?”  
“Yeah, I mean I called you didn’t I? I just have been thinking a lot.”  
“Does it hurt? Doing all that thinking?”  
“Shayne, not right now.”  
“Sorry,” he apologized, “What have you been thinking about?”  
“What haven’t I been thinking about.”  
“Are you okay, Damien?”  
“Not sure I know how to answer that properly.” Damien sighed.

In his room, Damien laid flat on his bed staring up at the ceiling, his head rested on a single pillow and a folded arm. His two cats were comfortably rested at his feet, cuddled in the soft grey blanket that was not in use by their human. His phone was sat beside his head, the harsh white glow of the screen flooded his bedroom with light, making the shadowed wardrobe and broken lamp visible and no longer just the dark outlines of the many objects scattered around his room. 

His clothes were honestly gross, he hadn’t showered in days and it was showing, he adorned an old moth-eaten green tee with small holes decorating the front of the shirt. He wore semi clean grey sweats, there was an unknown stain on his left pant leg that looked almost like the shape of Texas. Damien ran a hand through his greasy hair, he cringed at the feeling of the slick unclean texture coating his fingers-- he should shower but he couldn’t find the motivation.  
Motivation wasn’t exactly a word in his vocabulary at the moment, he couldn’t find anything to be the catalyst for him to get out of bed in the morning. This had gone on for the past couple days, calling in sick when really Damien was just depressed. Maybe not clinically but he knows that there is something clearly wrong with his situation, only getting up to feed himself, the cats, to use the washroom and laying in bed all day isn’t right. 

“I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear about my bullshit.”  
“Wait! Damien, it's okay.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah, you’re my best friend! I worry about you, it's kinda my job.”  
“Wow, uh,” Damien paused at a loss for words, “Shayne, I don’t know what to do.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Know how I’ve called in sick the past three days?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Shayne, I’m not sick-- well not the ‘cold’ kind of sick. I haven’t left my bed like at all.”  
“Oh.” 

“I’ve been staring up at the ceiling feeling like a piece of shit, like I’m not worth anything even though I know-- I know that I have an amazing job which is such a privilege and millions of people look up to me. But those people rely so much on me and I don't know how much longer I can deal with it. And right now I feel like whatever I do isn’t good enough, not for my standards and definitely not for YouTube. Shayne, I’m a mess, I’m sorry that you are hearing this right now. You should be sleeping, I should be sleeping. I mean I haven’t slept properly all week, I just can’t, you know? Too many things going on in the old noggin.” he tried to joke but Shayne wasn’t having it.

“Damien, can you do something for me? What are five things around you that you can see?”  
“Cats, blanket, iPhone, lamp. And um, pop figures.” 

“Good, what are four things you can touch?”  
Damien slowly moved his hand around him, feeling the objects under his fingers as he spoke, “Pillow, hair, and bed, um wall.” 

“Okay, good. And three things you can hear?”  
“Your voice,” he paused to listen for anything else, the only sounds he could focus on were at the foot of his bed and behind the wall closest to him, “Cats purring and cars driving by.” 

“How about two things you can smell?”  
“Old food and uh, candle.” he cringed at the gross smell. 

“Great, we’re almost done. Now one thing you can taste.”  
“Leftover buffalo wings that didn’t taste very good in the first place.”  
“Ew,” Shayne softly chuckled, “That was an exercise that is supposed to remind you of the present and where you are, especially if you are stuck in your own thoughts.” 

“Hm, thanks Shayne,” Damien took a deep breath, “That really helped.”  
“Is there anything else bothering you?”  
“Yeah, um, I don’t know how to explain it to you though.”  
“Just try, even if I don’t understand, I will still listen to you.”  
“I’ve just been thinking about my life, the things I’ve done-- both the good and the bad but that doesn’t really matter. I- uh, fuck.” he sighed.  
“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just keep going.” 

“The friends I’ve made and the ones I’ve lost but uh- I’ve also been thinking about my relationships-- the romantic ones I mean. And why none of them have worked out. Then I started thinking about the people I’ve been attracted to and I think that I am bi? Uh, or gay, I don’t know to be honest.” 

“Oh, really? Well, whatever you identify with, I support you in it fully.”  
“Thanks Shayne.”  
I mean I realized I was bi because of Chris Evans shirtless in Fantastic Four.” Shayne replied unprompted.  
“Wow, um.” Damien gently laughed.

“Is there anyone specific you’ve been thinking about?”  
“You, honestly.”  
“I’m honored that I was your sexual awakening but are you bothered by it because you find me attractive?”  
“What, no!” Damien froze, “No, no, no. I’m just having a fucking identity crisis.”  
“Okay that makes more sense. If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re hot too.” 

Even though it was over the phone, Damien knew that Shayne was smiling but he also had a grin painted across his own face too.

“Damien,” Shayne spoke, dragging out the name until he earned a laugh from his best friend, “Are you trying to tell me that you are in love with me?” 

“What? No! Shayne!”  
“It's okay, I like you too.”  
“What?”  
“Damien, I’m gay for you, homie.”  
“I literally can’t tell if you are joking or not.”  
“I am in love with you,” Shayne laughed, “No, I am genuinely serious.”  
“Okay damn, that was very forward of you.” 

Both of the men softly laughed with one another, this warm feeling filled Damien’s chest that had been so empty just minutes earlier.

“Can you come over, I- I know it’s almost four am but I don’t want to be alone right now.”  
“Yeah, of course,” Shayne replied, “Give me 20 minutes.”  
‘Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”  
“Yeah. Hey Damien?”  
“Hm?”  
“I want you to know everything is going to be okay.” 

It was closer to 30 minutes but to his word, Shayne appeared at Damien’s front door with a small backpack clutched in his hands. There was a quiet exchange between the two men, a small smile weakly spreading across their faces’ at the sight of the other. Shayne placed the bag beside the shoe rack and pulled Damien into a hug. 

It's been only four days since Damien had seen, let alone touched another person, but it felt like someone hadn’t held him in years. The contact of a hug was something he didn’t always enjoy, people touching him was weird and uncomfortable but when Shayne held him, it was different. He felt safe in the vulnerability with Shayne, he trusted him.

Unbeknownst to Damien, he was crying, quietly sobbing into Shayne’s shoulder as they stood by the front door just holding one another. He was crying and he didn’t exactly know why but here he was, being held by the guy he just recently confessed to being in love with. 

Shayne was warm and he smelled nice, it was a comforting woodsy type of scent.-- Cedarwood? Pine? Cinnamon? --Whatever it was, the aroma was soothing and it was something he knew would be his downfall. If he didn’t let go of it, he might get lost in it forever and that was something he couldn’t trust.

The many thoughts, the intrusive and the everyday ones fought for the front of his mind, it was like a bustling city. If you sit down with closed eyes and just listen, there are too many sounds to focus on just one and after a while your brain may start to hurt, all the noises meshing together as a roaring force. The cars, the people, the birds, it all adds up really quickly. Then upon opening your eyes, the colours and the movement seem to break down even more segments of your head before all that is left is the former husk of a human, broken and overwhelmed. 

This overload of thoughts made him wish it would all stop but that wasn’t really how it worked, he had to buck up and face the world like nothing was wrong. A lie, he put on his mask of the happy influencer yet, sooner or later the disguise must come off and the faucets need to be emptied.

“It’s okay, let it out.” Shayne spoke, rubbing soft circles into his back, “It’s better to let it out then keep it bottled up.” 

It took him a couple minutes before he began to feel better, the reservoirs behind his eyes soon dried up and the streams stopped flowing. Although the tears had subsided he held on just a little longer, he needed the contact-- he craved it. 

Damien lifted his head from the blond’s shoulder, a small wet patched was left behind from where his head was rested. “Sorry,” he mumbled, wiping the damp cloth. 

“I don’t care-- it’ll dry,” Shayne spoke before he placed a soft kiss on Damien’s forehead, carefully placing his hands to cup the man’s face. 

“I’m saying this because I care about you but,” Shayne paused from soft laughter, “But you look like shit, and you smell it too. Go take a shower, I’ll clean up a little bit okay?” 

Damien looked down at himself, he already knew that his clothes and hair were disgusting but oddly Shayne’s little remark actually helped him sober up.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” 

“I’m sure, now go-- shower, then we can cuddle if you want.” Shayne pushed the man up the stairs. 

Shayne adventured around the apartment, some areas were clearly a problem with other rooms were barely ever in use over the past few days. The living room wasn’t too bad, empty cups and dirty plates crowded the coffee table, while the cushions and a wrinkly blanket were messily sat about on the small brown couch. Shayne cleaned up all the dishes, carrying them off to the kitchen and rearranged the pillows in a nice order. 

He picked up the dirty napkins that littered the floor, all stained with an orange-red substance that he could only assume was pizza sauce. The trashcan in the kitchen was overflowing onto the tile floor, the bin was filled with takeout containers and food scraps. The kitchen had a smell to it, probably due to the rotting food to be found inside some of the to-go boxes. 

Like the garbage bin, the sink was filled with many stacked dishes, even pouring out onto the counters. As Shayne tidied the apartment, the more he understood the somewhat severity of Damien’s situation. His best friend was usually quite an organized person, apart from the pile of dirty clothes on his bedroom floor that appeared from time to time. 

He got started on many dishes that messily embellished the kitchen when Damien came down from his shower. His hair was still sopping wet and dripping down his face, he wore a pair of clean pyjama pants and a blue tee with a picture of an anime character, Shayne didn’t recognize. 

“Hey,” he spoke, “You don’t need to do the dishes, I can do them in the morning!” 

“Are you sure? I mean I kind of enjoy doing the dishes.” Shayne replied, Damien looked at him as if he was crazy. “What? It's kind of peaceful.” 

“Only you find that peaceful, Shayne.” he joked, “Now can you wipe the soap off your hands so I can hug you?” 

Shayne dried his hands on the tea towel beside him and wrapped an arm around Damien’s waist, holding him close as he rubbed Damien’s back tenderly.

“Are you feeling any better?”  
“I mean, I think so.” he paused, ‘Yeah.”  
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”  
“Just be there-- to talk to me and cuddle. Just don’t leave me right now.”  
“Of course,” he moved to cup Damien’s face again, “I will always be there for you. I have for the last eight years and I still haven’t left, have I?”  
“No but what if you get sick of my shit. What if my OCD is too much for you. What if-”  
“Damien, it is okay. I’m okay. I promise, you aren’t getting rid of me for quite a while.” 

A waved of exhaustion washed over Damien, he let out a soft yawn laying his head against the blond’s shoulder. He peaked at the green digital clock on the oven that was softly illuminating the kitchen. 

4:57am. 

“Jesus, it's almost five.” he mumbled, tiredness coating his voice.  
“Do you want to head to bed?”  
“Yes, please.” Damien walked over to an overhead cupboard, “Tea?” 

The cabinet was stock filled with different boxes, everything was neatly organized by both kind and colour. The loose kind were methodically stacked in small glass containers with chalkboard labels on each jar. 

“I’ve got ginger, ginger with lemon, green tea, chai, calming mix, sleepy time, chamomile, bengal spice and earl grey.” 

Shayne felt he was in that scene from Scott Pilgrim where Ramona Flowers was fastly listing off all the flavours she had, “Uh, sleepy time.” 

Damien grabbed two mugs, placing them on the countertop before flicking on the kettle. He scooped up two tea packets and popped them into the cups, carefully tying the strings of the bags around the handles. He waited by the kettle, Shayne watched from a little farther back as Damien began to play with his hands. 

Rubbing his knuckles together back and forth, scrubbing his fingers in a repetitive motion, lightly tapping his against the counters and his own thighs. This was something Shayne had briefly learned about in his online classes, from what he remembered the repetitive movements were called stimming. Stimming can be a calming outlet for neurodivergent individuals with diagnoses like autism, ADHD or anxiety.

“Hey, Dames?” Shayne said, catching the attention of the man, “Is something bothering you?” 

“What? Oh.” he replied after he realized what Shayne was referring to, “I’m okay, just thinking-- Is it just me or is this water taking a really long time to boil.” 

“It might help if you didn’t stare at the kettle. Come here,” Shayne said, the brunette walked over to him. Shayne grabbed Damien by the waist, picking him up and setting him down on the counter facing away from the slowly boiling kettle.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you could lift me!” Damien softly chuckled, he stared down at his hands as he continued fidgeting. Shayne stood in front of him, holding onto one of Damien’s moving hands as he smiled at the man. Shayne leaned forwards, slightly, to press a kiss onto Damien’s now clean hair. 

“Thank you.” Damien quietly said.  
“For what?”  
“For taking care of me.”  
“Oh, well you would have done the same for me.”  
“Yeah but not everyone would drive over to their friend’s house at four in the morning.”  
“That's true, I did for you though.”  
“Exactly. Like you didn’t have to but here you are and I’m thankful for it.” 

The click and whistling of the kettle interrupted them before Shayne could speak, he moved away to pour the hot water into the mugs. 

“Your tea, sir.” Shayne spoke in a terrible british accent as he delicately handed the hot cup to Damien. Shayne brought his own mug over to the counter that Damien was sat on before pushing himself up onto it as well. 

The two men sat beside each other on the kitchen counter as they sipped at their tea and talked about whatever random topic came to their brains during the moment.There was something quite comforting and surreal about the whole ordeal, and as time went on they both became more fatigued.

Damien set his cup down and rested his head on Shayne’s shoulder, just listening to the blond aimlessly mumble about what book he was reading or something interesting he’d seen on Twitter. This is what Damien wanted, the companionship and the amenity of it all.

To be with someone that he can feel loved and protected by, someone he can have moments like this with, someone he can wake up next to every morning.

Damien had no doubt that Shayne could be that someone.

“Hey, Shayne?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Would you kill me if I kissed you?”  
“What?”  
“Can I kiss you?”  
“Yes, Damien. You may kiss me.” 

Damien turned his body slightly towards Shayne, leaning in, he tilted the blond’s chin upwards with his thumb pressed lightly on the bottom lip. Shayne’s lips were soft and pillowy against Damien’s, and tasted just how'd he imagined. Sweet with the flavour of the tea still lingering on his tongue. Shayne’s comforting aroma was dizzying, it was heavy when they were closely pushed up against one another. 

Damien was right, he felt himself swimming in the scent, lost to it forever and he couldn’t get enough. Despite the obvious butterflies in his stomach, he deepened the kiss, melting even more into it. His lips parted slightly, allowing Shayne to control however he pleased, locking together like puzzle pieces. Shayne smiled, resting his forehead against Damien’s, “Wow.”

“I love you, Damien.” 

Something clicked in Damien’s brain when he heard those words, he didn’t need to find love within Shayne, it was already there. This realization hit him like a truck, and soon tears started pouring down his cheeks.

“Shit, Damien, Are you okay? Did I say it too early?”  
“No, it’s just,” he paused as he rubbed his eyes, “I- I love you, too.”

Shayne held him in his arms again, “God, how many times have I cried tonight?” Damien joked.

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

Though his heart felt full and restored, this love wasn’t a cure for Damien’s mental health and he knew he would have to work harder towards feeling better mentally but Shayne’s love was strong. It was capable of a lot of things and being a support for Damien was one of the main things. Damien also knew, maybe, just maybe, he would be okay after all.

**Author's Note:**

> this is kind of a vent fic, i'm doing okay. i promise, self isolation and school work has been pretty difficult.  
> follow me on tumblr @softboysmosh (my requests are open)  
> im looking for feedback, any in the comments would help so much


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